


Anniversary of Armageddon

by Demonic_Angel_511



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adam Young Still Has Powers (Good Omens), Alcohol, Anathema freaks out, Angel/Demon Relationship, Cold-Blooded Crowley (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Flashback, Heavenly Warmth, M/M, Married Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Non-Sexual Intimacy, Party? For Armageddon anniversary., Sharing Body Heat, Sleeping In Each Other's Arms, Slight mention of a hangover, Snake!Crowley - Freeform, The Ineffable Husbands are just soooooo cute!!, Threatened Arranged Marriage, crowley hisses, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 15:56:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20530646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demonic_Angel_511/pseuds/Demonic_Angel_511
Summary: The Them decided they need to celebrate the Anniversary of the day they stopped the Apocalypse. Anathema comes to tell Aziraphale and Crowley about it, and the group find out two things about Az and Crowley they never would have expected.1) Crowley gets whiny in the cold, and Aziraphale is a good heater.2) They've been married for almost 4 centuries?





	1. Guilty Pleasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everyone has guilty pleasures.
> 
> Most won't admit to them, but everyone has them.
> 
> Crowley and Aziraphale weren't excluded from this.
> 
> Alcohol, driving at miles above the speed-limit, eating, collecting old books, being friends with someone you were supposed to hate.
> 
> And another one, which neither would ever admit to having."
> 
> In which Crowley hates the cold, and Aziraphale makes quite a good heater.

**Disclaimer: I don’t own Good Omens or anything from that series.**

\----

Everyone has guilty pleasures.

Most won't admit to them, but everyone has them.

Crowley and Aziraphale weren't excluded from this.

Alcohol, driving at miles above the speed-limit, eating, collecting old books, being friends with someone you were supposed to hate.

And another one, which neither would ever admit to having.

Despite being a demon, Crowley was also a snake, which made him cold-blooded. This meant, in the winter, often, all he wanted to do was find a source of heat and lie on it.

Often, this source of heat was Aziraphale.

This has started when he had been lazing in his snake form over the back of the sofa, basking in the warmth of the fire, when Aziraphale sat down with a book, blocking out the heat. He was about to hiss in protest of this, when the angel lent back, basically meaning the snake was over his shoulders instead.

Immediately, the heavenly warmth that always omitted from the angel enveloped Crowley.

He settled down contentedly, eventually moving so he was wrapped around Aziraphale's neck like a scaly scarf.

The next time it was that cold, he sought out the angel and slithered up his body until he was in the same position.

Aziraphale seemed surprised, but didn't protest.

After that, it seemed to become a habit - every winter Crowley could be found in some way wrapped around Aziraphale or lazing in his lap in snake form.

It was during this time one winter that Anathema happened to come in.

To say she was surprised to see Aziraphale casually sitting on a sofa with a snake in his lap, one hand holding a book that he was reading and the other one stroking the scales of the black - very poisonous looking - snake would be an understatement.

She blinked, and then said - in a very calm voice - "Aziraphale, you have a snake on you."

Aziraphale blinked up at her. "Yes, I know."

"It is a SNAKE." Anathema repeated, as though emphasising the word would make Aziraphale realise what she meant.*

*It didn't.

The angel was looking concerned now. 

"Anathema, are you feeling alright?"

The snake let out a series of hisses that sounded remarkably like laughter.*

*It was, in fact, laughter. Crowley was finding this scenario hilarious.

Anathema started at him blank faced. "Am I alright?" She asked hysterically. "I think the question is, are YOU alright? You're sitting there with a massive, poisonous looking snake in your lap, and you're asking if I'M alright?"

She was starting to freak out now.

"What if it bites you? I'm sure human medicine won't work, you'll die," she waved off Aziraphale when it looked like he was going to interrupt, "discorporate, whatever, and then you'll be stuck in heaven, and Crowley said that they tried to kill you the last time you were there,"

"Anath-"

Anathema carried on, "Yes, I know it wasn't technically you there, but semantics, they'll try to kill you again, and then -"

"ANATHEMA!" Shocked into silence by Aziraphale's raised voice*, Anathema cut her rant off.

*Anyone who'd known Aziraphale for more than a week had quickly figured out that the angel did not shout. He very calmly and politely explained what you had done to upset him, while at the same time giving you a look of utter disappointment and sadness. It was extremely effective. 

The snake let out an offended hiss, and then stretched out from it's position, growing until it assumed the form of a lanky, red haired male wearing black glasses.

"I never bite Az, how dare you ssssssuggessssst ssssssuch a thing." The man accused her, though his offended ire was kind of rendered useless by the way he was sat in Aziraphale's lap, curled into him.

Anathema started at them for a second.

Aziraphale shrugged. "He is called 'The Serpent' for a reason." He pointed out, shifting to better accommodate the sudden change of mass.

Crowley made a discontented noise, burrowing into Aziraphale. "Angelllllll, it's coooooold." He whined, his voice muffled by the angel's skin.

Anathema was starting to smile at the normally so aloof demon whining like a two year old

Aziraphale chuckled. "Yes, I know it is Crowley, but I can't help that I'm afraid." 

Crowley huffed before he shrunk into a snake again, slithering under Aziraphale's jumper and winding around his waist.

Aziraphale shook his head fondly.

"He'll never change." He muttered, before focusing back on Anathema, who had calmed herself down while watching the little byplay. 

"Now, can I help you dear girl?"

Anathema shook her head slightly. "Oh, yes, I came to invite you and Crowley around for tea today, the Them are planning a massive celebration for the anniversary of the Armage-don't, and are insisting that everyone who helped is there. That includes you two. A word to the wise?" She paused. "Adam still has some of his Antichrist Powers," she was interrupted by a muffled hiss.

"He says, 'of course the boy does, did you think he was going to give them up?'" Aziraphale translated.

Anathema nodded slightly, a little weirded out*, but continued. "So he's said that he'll just drag anyone who doesn't come to the party by force."

*She was under the impression that snakes couldn't talk - and yet apparently Aziraphale could understand that hiss perfectly?**

**She eventually dismissed it as a weird quirk that you had to get used to when dealing with supernatural entities.

Aziraphale winced. "That hurts." He admitted, rubbing his shoulder lightly. "We'll be there."

If snakes could huff, Crowley did.

Anathema grinned. "We'll, I'll see you there then."

Aziraphale smiled warmly. "Yes, you will dear girl."

With that, the witch took her leave.

The angel and the demon settled down again to enjoy a little more of their guilty pleasure. Aziraphale picked up his book again, and Crowley emerged from his jumper just enough for the angel's free hand to start stroking his head.

The room was comfortably quiet apart from the crackle of the fire, the sound of pages turning and small contented hisses.

\------------------

**AN: I LOVE THE INEFFABLE HUSBANDS!!!!!!!**

**Sorry, had to say that.**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Demonic_Angel_511**


	2. Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why the Them decided to throw a party in celebration of them stopping Armageddon was lost on Crowley to be perfectly honest. Sure, they stopped the end of the world happening, yay, humanity lives on, it still didn't stop his and Az’s problems with hell and heaven respectively."
> 
> The party that The Them planned is happening, and the group find out some very interesting information about the oldest of their members.
> 
> They've been married for almost 4 centuries.

**Disclaimer: I don’t own anything of Good Omens.**

**AN: I would like to thank ** [WiznerdTheEagle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiznerdTheEagle/pseuds/WiznerdTheEagle) **, who posted this: **

_"I always love fics that have others finding out about shit they’ve gotten up to, and/or have them having been together for ages, so this was good fun.   
_ _I’ve got some Latin to suggest. I took three years of it, so here’s what you’d actually wanna use for that segment: “amor vetitus qui scaeculis permanebit”.   
_ _It literally means “a forbidden love which will endure for centuries”, but the last part could also be translated as “will last forever”.   
J_ _ust wanted to throw that out there. Might as well use those years of education for something, right?"_

**as well as ** [MythicalMind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythicalMind/pseuds/MythicalMind) **, who posted this:**

_ "Hi! Your story is absolutely adorable, and I have to say my favorite part was when crowley stuck his head in the coffee. Ngl, my favorite stories are about Crowley in his snake form. I was really impressed with the latin, too! Most people just pop something into google translate, so it was really nice seeing proper grammar and everything! You might consider changing "scaeculis" to "saeculis," though, as the former isn't actually a word that exists." _

**and corrected my latin use. Thank you so much both of you, I am hopeless at language, so this really helped!**

\----

Why the Them decided to throw a party in celebration of them stopping Armageddon was lost on Crowley to be perfectly honest. Sure, they stopped the end of the world happening, yay, humanity lives on, it still didn't stop his and Az’s problems with hell and heaven respectively.*

*Yes, okay, now the head offices were mostly too afraid to do anything to either of them, and yes, they wouldn't have gotten that if Armageddon had happened, but still - it was so hard not to defend Az against those stuck up Archangels!

But, Adam had said that he’d drag anyone who tried to skive there with his Antichrist Powers, and Crowley had been dragged to enough places by Hellish magic to know that IT HURT.

And there was no way he’d let Az go through that, his entire being was fundamentally different to Adam’s powers, it would be agony for him.

So, Crowley drove his beloved Bentley up to Tadfield for a dinner party being thrown by four pre-teens. This is what his life had come to.

Though, he also had a beautiful angel sitting in the passenger seat, so maybe it wasn't so bad.

Anathema’s living room had been taken over, and now streamers were falling down the walls, multicoloured balloons were dotted all over the floor, and the tables were groaning under junk food.

Crowley stopped in the doorway, looking around in horror. “Angel….” He started to shake Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Angel, there’s no alcohol.”

Aziraphale looked mildly amused. “Of course there isn’t my dear, these are only 12 year olds, how do you think they would have got their hands on alcohol?”

Crowley grumbled to himself. “What am I supposed to drink then?” He whined, walking over to the table and starting to inspect the drinks.

“Orange Juice?” The ethereal being offered weakly.

Crowley fixed Aziraphale with an unamused look. “Orange Juice? Who do you think I am Az? You?”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk on his lips. “Well, you were at one point.”

Crowley huffed. “Point taken.” He muttered, going back to staring at the drinks. “But still, I, Crowley, the Serpent of Eden, Tempter of Eve, Demon of Humanity, Voted Most Hated Demon of Hell for Five Years….”

Aziraphale interrupted him. “They actually do those votes? It sounds like a Primary School who are trying to get morale up.”

Crowley laughed. “Yeah, they actually do those votes, I don't know why.”

Deciding that he needed to drink something, Crowley grabbed a paper cup and filled it with lemonade. Then, when he thought Az wasn’t looking, he quickly miracled it to be a lot deeper than it was at the moment* and turned it into alcohol.

*Think the jug that Michael had, filled with Holy Water in episode six

Aziraphale rolled his eyes fondly, and fixed himself a cup of Fanta.

It wasn't long before everyone else started turning up, and Crowley wondered with every person who walked in how no one had commented on what an odd group they were.

Honestly - four pre-teens, one of whom was the Antichrist, one of whom he was pretty sure was transgender but hadn’t figured it out yet, one of whom was the typical lazy boy who just went along with whatever the ‘cool’ friend said, and one of whom seemed to have the mental age of someone in their mid-forties; two witchfinders, one who had a strange curse with electronics, and one who was still stuck in the seventeenth century; two witches, one who was almost useless but still had a hint of angelic grace left in her from Aziraphale possessing her, and one who wasn’t yet sure what to do with her life now she wasn’t a descendent anymore; and two immortal beings who should hate each other but were actually best friends.

Yeah, they were a weird group for sure.

To be honest, he couldn't place a time when he started to think of them as a group. Were they a group? 

Too serious a question for when he was sober, Crowley decided and pushed it out of his mind.

The party wasn't too bad, Adam thought of some good party games, he had some alcohol, and Aziraphale was having a good time, so that made him happy.

It was when they got to the dinner part that conversation started to get interesting for him. 

At some point during the night, the ring that Aziraphale always wore on his left hand had fallen off, and Anathema gave it back to him with a curious, “Can I ask you something?”

Aziraphale took it back gratefully. “Of course.”

“That’s a seventeenth century* wedding ring, isn’t it?”

*Just to be clear, I don't know if bridal prices were used in the Seventeenth Century, or what the average price was if they were. I tried searching for it, but couldn't find out. If I’m wrong, please tell me, but don't flame me for this please.

The table went quiet, everyone turning to stare at Aziraphale.

He looked at Anathema with slight surprise. “Yes, it is, I'm surprised you knew.”

Anathema smiled slightly at him, but her eyes remained hard. “One of my passions is historical artefacts.” She said evenly.

Aziraphale hummed, twisting the ring around his finger. “I'm glad my dear, not many people are interested in the past, it was a very fascinating thing.”

“Yeah, but why do you have a wedding ring?” Pepper cut in, staring at the ring. “Who would you marry who wouldn't die in what to you would be no time at all?”

Then, everyone at the table suddenly seemed to realise. 

As one, they turned to look at Crowley.

The demon smirked, reached up to his neck and pulled on a chain that hung there.

A small ring fell out, dangling on the end.

He unhooked the chain, passing it to Anathema. Aziraphale gave her his back as well.

Holding her breath, Anathema turned both bands over and read the inscription on the inside. “Amor vetitus qui saeculis permanebit.”

“It’s in Latin.” Aziraphale said quietly.

Adam pulled his phone out, and quickly typed the sentence into Google Translate. “A forbidden love which will endure for centuries.” He translated.*

*<strike>I am aware that this translation does not work if you translate it from Latin to English on Google Translate, but it does if you go from English to Latin, and I can’t correct it</strike>.**

**Edit: I have now managed to correct it, as people have probably realised from my note at the beginning. Thanks again guys!

Madame Tracey cooed at them. “Awww, that’s cute.”

Aziraphale and Crowley blushed and ducked their heads.*

*Both will veminatantly deny this if asked about it.

Anathema smiled and handed them their rings back. “What I don’t get,” she said, successfully changing the subject, much to the two ethereal beings’ relief, “is how you’ve been married for centuries, and Heaven and Hell have just let you?”

Aziraphale and Crowley laughed, shaking their heads.

“No, definitely not, if they knew we’d be toast, or...well ...whatever you call what demons turn into when Holy Water touches them, ages ago.” Crowley said, shrugging. 

“So, they don't know? How?”

Aziraphale seemed to consider this for a moment.

“‘Cos they’re stupid.” Crowley said casually, sipping from his cup.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, flicking Crowley lightly on the arm. “They’re not stupid.” He admonished him.

Crowley sighed.

Anathema lent over to whisper to Madame Tracey, “They really do act like a quintessential married couple, don’t they?”

Aziraphale and Crowley, both whom had supernatural hearing, blushed again, before turning their attention back to the Them, who were waiting slightly impatiently. 

“Heaven and Hell don't really care about us.” Aziraphale told the others, shrugging. “Normally, apart from our orders about what to do on earth, they’d leave us alone - otherwise our ‘Arrangement’ could never have happened. Now they’re just scared - for now they’ll leave us alone.”

Newt frowned. “What do you mean, for now?”

Crowley grimaced. “We’re still bound to heaven and hell, it’s part of our beings. Down Below and Up Above are not happy with us, our switching trick won't be enough to get them to leave us alone for good.”

A solemn silence fell over the room.

“Enough sad depressing stuff, tell us how you ended up getting married!” Adam declared, bouncing up.

“Well…” Aziraphale started, a smile curving on his lips.

** _Flashback (1619)_ **

_ Aziraphale scowled. He hated it when they did this. _

_ He had just come back from giving his normal report to Head Office, and while he was up there, the Archangels had decided to play around with his settings again. _

_ He was now in the body of a nineteen year old girl. _

_ Sighing in resignment, he stood up from the clearing where he had risen up to give his report, and wandered out into the streets. _

_ “Artemis! There you are!” A man called, walking over to him/her*. “Come on, I told you that you weren’t to go out today! You still have to do your chores!”_

_*Arizaphale didn’t know what to call himself. His preferred body was male, he still thought of himself as male, but this body was female, and angels were typically sexless…. Oh for heaven's sake, he’ll use the male pronouns, it’s what he’s familiar with anyway._

_ Aziraphale suddenly realised that the man was talking to him. _

_ “Come on!” The man huffed and turned around, walking away, obviously expecting Aziraphale to follow. _

_ Aziraphale did, a little shocked. Normally when they switched his body, it would just be for a few days, and they definitely did not give him a family. _

_ What was he going to do? _

_ It didn't take long before Aziraphale was completely fed up with his new life. As a girl at his current age, in this time, he was expected to soon be marrying, and therefore his days were spent practising his cooking, cleaning, sewing, and all sorts of other ‘skills’ he would need when he was married. _

_ And the body was not reverting back to what he preferred. _

_ It was bothersome. _

_ It was his third week in the past when he found a particular snake hiding under the bushes in the garden. _

_ “Crowley!” He exclaimed in relief, only remembering at the last moment to lower his voice. _

_ The snake reared back in shock. “Aziraphale?” It hissed, looking completely confused. _

_ “Yes, it’s me, listen, Gabriel and the others have done something to my body, and it’s not reversing like it normally does. These people believe that I’m their daughter, and they’re thinking about making a marriage contract with someone if I’m not at least betrothed in two months.” _

_ The snake hissed in anger. _

_ “I don't know what to do Crowley.” The angel sounded desperate. _

_ “Leave it to me.” The snake slithered off, and moments later, a lanky red-haired man who looked to be about 21 came around the corner, and knocked on the door. _

_ Aziraphale’s ‘father’ answered the door, and moments later, Crowley walked in. _

_ The end result was that in about 2 hours, he called in ‘Artemis’ and told her that she was to be married to Mr. Anthony Crowley within two months. _

_ He paid £2.27 pounds for the man’s ‘daughter’, and took her away as his ‘wife’. _

_ After six months of being in the body of a nineteen year old girl and being unable to do miracles, the Archangels finally set the body back to rights, fearing that without an angel doing miracles on earth, Hell would take advantage, and start converting humans, leaving angel’s without a way to refill their energy stores. _

_ Neither Heaven nor Hell ever found out that Crowley rescued Aziraphale by marrying him. _

** _End Flashback_ **

“£2.27?” Wensleydale asked when they were finished. “That doesn’t seem like a lot of money.”

“It might not in this century.” Aziraphale said, smiling, “But in 1619, £2.27 was equivalent to £500.82 now.”

Everyone’s eyes went wide.

“£500.82?” Anathema breathed in shock.

Crowley nodded, disinterestedly. “Yeah, but Az is worth it.”

Aziraphale turned to stare at Crowley in shock, and blushed slightly.

Crowley didn't seem to notice that he’d said it.

Aziraphale felt a smile curve on his lips, and he lent his head against Crowley’s shoulder.

The Demon turned his head to look at him in confusion, but seemed to shrug it off.

The party ended soon after that, and everyone left, leaving Anathema and Newt with the momentous task of cleaning up the house. 

Aziraphale had offered to help them, but they had smiled, said they were fine and pushed him out of the door towards Crowley, who was leaning against the door casually, hands deep in his pockets.

“Come on Angel, let’s leave these two in peace.” He gestured with his head towards the Bentley parked in front of the house, the double yellow lines pulled back so the car didn’t cross them.

“If you’re sure you don't want any help…” Aziraphale asked, wavering, before a push from Newt had him heading out of the house towards the car.

“Goodbye!” Anathema called after them, before the two entered the house and shut the door behind them.

Aziraphale climbed into the passenger seat of the Bentley, relaxing back into the soft leather.

“I’m glad we came.” He said softly. “That was actually a lot of fun.”

Crowley just made a non-commital noise as he started the engine and stomped on the gas, speeding away at a very tame 65mph.

Aziraphale winced and clutched at the seat.

Going at the speeds he was, it wasn’t long before they were back in London, pulling up in front of the bookshop.

“Would you like to stay for a bit?” Aziraphale offered as he got out of the car. “I’ve got some very good _ Pasión Azteca, _and it is always nicer to drink with a friend.”

Crowley grinned. “I thought I was the tempter around here?” He teased the angel as he parked the Bentley and got out.

“Well, it is always nice to switch roles for a bit.” Aziraphale replied, lifting his nose into the air and adopting a lofty attitude.

Crowley smirked and ushered the angel into his bookshop.

Once in there, the angel led the way to the back room, where he pulled the crystal bottle out of it’s safe spot and poured two large tumblers full, handing one to Crowley, who collapsed onto the sofa and proceeded to put his limbs in a confused jumble that made them seem like they had been dislocated.

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment, and then sank down next to the demon, resting his head on his chest.

Crowley seemed to freeze for a moment, before slowly allowing his arm to fall naturally across Aziraphale’s shoulders, tracing patterns over his skin.

Aziraphale smiled.

They sat like that for a bit, curled up around one another, sipping their alcohol.

At some point, Crowley's head came to rest on Aziraphale’s, and the angel’s fingers started playing with strands of Crowley’s hair. Their free hands had intertwined, and now rested between them.

Aziraphale sighed, pressing a light kiss to the back of Crowley’s hand, and he squeezed softly back.

The angel enjoyed this, little moments of intimacy that seemed to calm him down.

Crowley flicked his fingers and the old TV that Aziraphale owned for moments like these came on, an old movie starting to play - Love Actually, the two’s secret favourite movie to watch together.

After spending an enjoyable 2 hours and 15 minutes laughing, crying and cooing together over the different scenes, they had drank nearly the whole bottle of alcohol, and had ended up tangled together even more on the sofa.

Crowley yawned slightly, snuggling into the angel. 

“D-D’you wanna s-stay here for the night?” Aziraphale slurred out, getting comfortable where he was.

“Yeaah.” Crowley answered, already half asleep. In no time, he was curled up, holding the angel tight to his chest in his sleep.

Aziraphale lazily flicked his wrist, and everything tidied itself up, the bookshop locking up.

In no time, he was asleep as well, comfortable and safe in Crowley’s arms.

\----------

It wasn’t until the next morning that Aziraphale realised that they had forgotten to sober up.

This realisation was accompanied by a pounding ache in his temples.

He groaned, turning over and snuggling his face into Crowley’s shirt, trying to block out the light.

“Mornin’ angel…” Crowley groaned in a thick, husky voice that never failed to light Aziraphale’s insides on fire.

“Morning.” He replied, voice muffled by the fabric.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Aziraphale pulled away regretfully, purging the last of the alcohol from his system and squirming out of Crowley’s arms, placing a light kiss on his forehead and going to make some sweet tea for him and coffee for Crowley.

When he came back, Crowley had switched into his snake form and was curled up, tail over his eyes.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes fondly, lifted the snake around his neck and held the cup of steaming coffee to the snake’s nose.

A forked tongue flashed out, dipping into the coffee, before the entire snake head dunked itself in.

Aziraphale laughed, sipping his own tea and leaning back, the snake still draped around his neck. The headache started to ease as they sat there, snake Crowley having finished his coffee and instead decided to try and see how much he could wrap around Aziraphale before he ran out of body.

Aziraphale was more than happy to encourage this task, as long as it didn't stop him reading his books.

No one seemed brave enough to enter Aziraphale's bookshop today, so the two beings spent an enjoyable day reading, drinking, eating, talking, laughing and simply revelling in each other's company.

The only strange thing happened when Crowley stood up to announce that he should probably return to his flat.

Aziraphale nodded sadly, rose and walked with him to the door. For a moment they lingered there, staring at each other, before Aziraphale rose onto his toes and pressed a chaste kiss to Crowley's mouth. He then withdrew, smiled warmly and bid the demon goodnight before retreating inside the bookshop again.

Crowley remained on the step of the shop, mouth hanging open, eyes wide in shock. Slowly, as if in a dream, he turned around, walking back to the Bentley and slid into the driver's seat.

"Did that actually happen?" He asked the steering wheel.

The steering wheel didn't reply.

Crowley shook off his shock and put himself in the mindset where he'd be able to drive without discorparting himself, resolving to think about it later when he had plenty of time.

If one hand rose to his lips at various times throughout his journey, and if his mind was mostly fixed on blonde curls and blue eyes and soft, warm lips then he certainly wasn't telling.

\---------

**AN: Well, there you go, my first Good Omens fic published.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked the story!**

**Demonic_Angel_511**


End file.
